


In Grief

by Sophisticated_Adult



Category: Devil May Cry, Marvel vs. Capcom (Video Game), Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Dante Explains Metagaming, Gen, M/M, Swearing, Zero being Zero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8141563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: Alone and untethered in a strange new world, Zero is ruining himself. But his new teammates aren't quite willing to let him get away wth it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I know approximately fuck and all about DMC aside from playing the first game for maybe two hours when it first came out (I am bad at video games), and also UMvC3 aside from watching videos. But this is apparently a popular team (it's at least got a silly nickname) and I just...needed to write this stupid thing. But I'm basically taking the approach of, story-wise, 'It's Smash Bros But Slightly Different.' The main point is that Zero is a glorious mess.
> 
> Also an appreciation for how delightfully short Zero is in UMvC3. SHORT ZERO 2K16
> 
> Also also, still taggin' it as the OTP because I am literally not ever _not_ shipping it.

It was absolutely none of Vergil's concern. Not the way Dante's repeated attempts were rebuffed – not in an angry, sharp, _I-don't-need-any-help_ manner that might be expected, but cold, stiff politeness. Thanks, but no thanks. And then their – minion? Teammate? Ally? - simply went on to do what he had been doing near obsessively since their tentative 'team' had formed. Likely since he had first been pulled from his own world and thrown into this one.

He trained. Relentlessly. At first Vergil was pleased at it, especially in comparison to his useless brother's lazing about. Weakness would not be tolerated, but this creature of metal would not allow itself to be weak. And that was something that gave Vergil pause – was this Zero, created by humans, even more worthless than they, or was the abandonment of flesh and bone in favour of smooth metal and raw energy enough to at least be moderately respectable, perhaps along the level of a lesser but loyal and useful demon?

Well. He was getting side-tracked. But at this current rate, Zero was going to be worth exactly as much as his name implied.

He had not even noticed Vergil. The reploid's movements were smooth and graceful, each stance flowing to the next. Red and gold and white and flashing green, all in a beautiful, private display. But to one who had seen him fight and had the skill to analyse it properly, there were stutters, pauses. Minute.

Unacceptable.

Zero followed the arcing slash of his saber in a circle and pivoted to face Vergil as he stepped out of the shadows. He danced back several steps as Vergil strode forward, said nothing, kept his weapon raised.

There was no sound save the soft hum of the Z-Saber. Zero held himself steady, wary, waiting.

Vergil felt himself smirk. In an instant he was behind the small reploid, and oh, that hair was far too tempting a target. He pulled, and even as Zero was turning again to meet him (he did not even cry out, a detached part noticed, just a soft hiss) Vergil pushed them both to the ground and immediately pinned his opponent's right hand in a crushing grip, rendering the saber useless. That didn't prevent Zero's _other_ hand swiftly coming up to meet him, transforming quickly - yet still a fraction slower than what Vergil knew he was capable of – until he was facing down the barrel of a buster. 

Letting go of his fistful of golden hair, Vergil placed his hand on the cannon itself. Zero's eyes narrowing slightly were his only reaction.

It wasn't even charged. Vergil was familiar with the low whine it made when it was ready to fire.

“What use are you like this?” Vergil asked mildly. Zero blinked, seemed to be considering something, but still said nothing. The buster remained silent.

“Please.” Vergil pushed it contemptuously aside. That Zero _let_ him sparked a strange anger that was quickly strangled. “You are contributing _nothing_ if you continue to destroy yourself. I will not allow this to continue. Get up.” Vergil stood, not bothering to see if his order had been obeyed, and stalked back towards the building they'd claimed for themselves that Dante was slowly redecorating (and re-redecorating each time Vergil _disagreed_ with the childish skull-and-bones aesthetic, or the inexplicable heavy metal band posters).

\---

Zero lay, numb, where he'd fallen.

What was the point?

There _was_ no point. There were no Mavericks here, as much as he'd been on constant high alert, as much as he blustered and boasted that it was his job to defeat them. What else was there about him to talk about?

He slowly tested his right hand – still achingly sore, but nothing too serious. Vergil had gone easy on him. Methodically, Zero pushed his arms under him, brought his legs up, stood as though it was an involved process and not one that ought to have been seamless, easy.

He was so...tired. More than usual. Of _everything._ Of being expected to fight humans, however superpowered they were, however much of a bad taste it left in his mouth. Of having nothing and no-one he remotely cared about.

It was a matter of fierce debate, back home, whether or not Reploids had souls. Those talk programmes always upset X but Zero dissuaded him from ever going on them – Reploids never seemed to feature on them anyway, and the humans could talk and talk as much as they liked. Talking wouldn't change whether they did or not. Talking wouldn't change that Reploids were _vital_ and had better things to worry about. Mostly Zero couldn't stand the thought of some grotty old human having the goddamn _nerve_ to tell X right to his face that he was _inferior._

Recently, since coming to this world, a deep, aching chill had settled over Zero. He wasn't bothered if he had a soul or not, he probably didn't deserve one anyway. But this...feeling, it couldn't be tracked, logged, and neutralised. He was stuck with it.

He went through the motions of walking, noted absently that Vergil had deigned to leave the door slightly ajar for him, pushed it open and stumbled forward into the excuse for a home he had here.

The door clicked behind him.

“Oh, hey, 'sup.” Dante called over from where he was reclining on the couch, idly strumming his guitar. He wasn't wearing a shirt. At this point Zero didn't even know if he _had_ a shirt. Dante wasn't looking at Zero, though, but to his side, where Vergil leaned against the wall, arms folded.

“What food is there?” Vergil asked, immediately cutting off Dante when he opened his mouth to speak again. That was enough to surprise both of them, Reploid and half-demon exchanging equally confused glances.

“Uh, there's probably pizza? Robots can eat pizza, right?” Dante offered, one hand holding his guitar strings flat as he looked doubtfully at Zero. “Wow, no offence, man, but you look _wasted_ right now.”

Zero started a little, not expecting to be addressed so suddenly. He did not want to deal with _any_ of this, so he made to head up the stairs to his sparse room, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“No,” Vergil said simply, matter-of-factly. “Is...pizza...sufficient?”

Looking from one brother to the other in bewilderment – Dante offered no help – Zero nodded slowly. Human food generally wasn't as efficient and took longer to process, but he could deal with it if it would get them off his back.

“Get it,” Vergil ordered, the hand on Zero's back steering him towards the couch.

“Hey, I ain't your goddamn servant!” Dante protested. But he glanced at Zero, and the way his expression twisted into a grimace made the Reploid wonder if he really did look that bad.

“No-one touches this or they lose their fingers,” Dante warned, holding out his guitar before placing it reverently on the couch. “And I sure as fuck ain't doing this for _you_ ,” he added, glaring at Vergil before he stood and stalked in a huff to the kitchen, making loud clatters and clanks as he rooted through the fridge and Zero was (almost) gently guided down to sit. Thankfully, the awkward silence was cut short before it started as Dante called from the kitchen.

“Hey, Zero, you want a drink? Beer? Tea? We got orange juice for some fuckin' reason, that any good?”

Vergil sat on the armrest next to him. “Just water's fine,” Zero called into the kitchen, deeply uncomfortable at all this sudden attention he was getting. He didn't need to be coddled and – and _looked after._

They didn't have the _right._

Causing a fuss would likely make it worse, so he let them.

“'Just water' my _ass_ ,” Dante said as he emerged from the kitchen, balancing a plate in one hand and holding a mug in the other. “Live a little, little guy.” Zero took the mug – someone had drawn a red devil face on it with markers – that warmed his hands, the pizza plate put into his lap. They didn't have a table in the 'main room.' He took an experimental sip.

Hot chocolate.

Huh.

\---

Zero was surprised, but in retrospect perhaps shouldn't have been, when he woke up to breakfast in bed.

“I am a man of _many_ talents,” Dante said, grinning and fingergunning at him as Zero took the plate.

Instead of leaving it at that and leaving him in peace, Dante sat on the edge of the bed. As though to _make sure_. Zero nearly scowled at the thought, but instead let it be. He began to cut into the slightly burnt bacon and eggs when Dante spoke up again.

“Hey, tell me about something cool about where you’re from. Uh, between mouthfuls. Like, are you from a universe of tiny robot dudes, or something?”

“No.” Zero put his knife and fork down and looked Dante directly in the eye. He was getting tired of the constant references to his height. “Everyone here is just freakishly tall.”

Dante let out a sudden sharp bark of laughter.

“My god, you do have a sense of humour! And hey, I didn’t know you could take that stuff off. Thought it was, like, a part of you, or somethin’.” Dante gestured at his armour, scattered in pieces in the corner – normally he’d arrange it neatly for convenience in the morning, but last night he’d been too damn tired. Zero shrugged. Yes, he could, in fact, remove his armour. How observant.

“Anyway, spill. Tell me about your cool robot buddies.”

Zero’s hands tightened on the utensils. “Reploid.”

“Sorry?”

“There’s a _difference_.” To the point where, in the right tone and context, ‘robot’ was a slur. Robots were programmed to follow orders. Reploids were more than that, in every aspect, good and bad.

“Oh, sorry. Reploid buddies, then. After you eat, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Zero ate, if only to put off the inevitable. Dante filled the silence himself. “It’s not so bad bein’ short when everyone’s tall, though, ‘cause you’re fighting the tall guys and the tall guys are fighting other tall guys, so when the tall guy fights you, you know how to deal with tall guys but the tall guy doesn’t know what the hell he’s doin’, right? Least, that’s how I see it.” Dante scratched the side of his cheek absently. “Plus that whole whirling ball of death thing you got goin’ on probably wouldn’t work as well if you were a lanky asshole.”

The knife and fork clinked against the plate. Finished.

“Right.” Dante did another, singular fingergun. “One cool thing, go.”

Zero took a breath. The, hah, _soul-deep_ ache reared its head again, but he pushed it back down.

“His name is X.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bonus: Original title was 'Party Bro And Asshole Bro Help Robot Bro Chill The Fuck Out, Or: Dante And Vergil Adopt A Small Robot With Poor Coping Skills')


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's another thing I've had written up for like 6 months but never posted because my brain is a jerk. Now the title makes even less sense, hooray! Also feat. another character I have no business writing.

Vergil left it at that, leaving Dante to be the official Zero-wrangler. That was fine with him. He was considering getting business cards made: All Your Depressed Robot's Needs Slightly Taken Care Of. Ugh, no, reploid, wasn't it? He was trying a little harder after Trish pointed out that even Vergil could keep that straight, and Dante was _better_ than that asshole.

He didn't hover constantly, he wasn't the guy's mom (mechanic? Builder?) and it was blatantly obvious Zero couldn't stand it. But he could throw in some dumb jokes, try to get the guy to smile or talk a bit. He totally clammed up when it was anything to do directly with himself, but this 'X' guy...

Zero was so in love with him it was downright adorable. He was the goddamn moon and stars, the way Zero spoke about him when his guard was down. Dante kind of wanted to pinch his cheeks if he wasn't pretty sure it would get his arm sliced off.

Life went on. They won more matches than they lost - that felt good, it turned out they were a pretty damn good team after all, and it also had the bonus that anything less than a 100% win rate was the absolute end of the goddamn world to Vergil, which was always entertaining to watch.

And then one day his brother brought home a guy slung over his shoulder like it was nothing, carelessly dumped him on the couch next to a stunned Zero, and said, "I assume you can fix him."

Zero...didn't take it so well.

As in, after a few moments of staring, he lunged forward to practically throw himself on the newcomer, hissed "don't _touch_ him," and vanished in red light, carting Vergil's catch with him.

"Well, that went well," Dante drawled. "Serious question: what were you goddamn thinking?"

"I..." it didn't take long for Vergil to collect himself. "No. I owe you nothing, Dante. But we must find them. The other was already a target."

"What?"

Leave it to good old Vergil to make his life a huge mess way more than it needed to be.

\---

X leaned against the wall and listened carefully. After a few tense moments, there was no sound of pursuit. He let himself give out a breath of relief that came out as a gasp and collapsed against the wall of the alleyway he'd ducked into. He winced; now the immediate threat was past, his shoulder was reminding him that it had taken a direct hit - some sort of energy blast - and he gave the clear to run a quick diagnostic scan.

What a day. What a _world_.

Because this definitely wasn't home. His attackers weren't Mavericks, unless they had exceptional means to disguise that, which seemed unlikely - why bother to go with that sort of stealth if they were going to attack him in the open anyway? Mavericks didn't bother with that kind of thing when straightforward brute force was so much easier.

Which left open the question of _who_ was attacking him. He must have seemed an easy target, lost and confused. Now he had a better handle on how things apparently worked around here, he'd be more careful.

His diagnostic scan quietly pinged a result. Lots of aches and scrapes, he'd have a bit of a limp, but he could manage until...

Until what?

X frowned, bringing his knees up to hug them to his chest. He had no idea what he was doing here. In more than one sense of the term. His comms seemed to be busted, too; after giving up on trying to contact Alia or Zero, even the emergency line at HQ wasn't responding. Part of him wondered if they could hear his increasingly panicked and probably incoherent calls but just couldn't respond, and he wasn't sure what the better option was there. At least then they'd _know_ he was stuck here, even if they couldn't guide him out.

"Ah, here you are!"

His reprieve was short-lived. X scrambled to his feet as one of the people who'd been chasing him earlier dropped from above to hover in front of him on what looked like powered-up booster jets attached to his feet (and hands?). The red and gold colour scheme was all the wrong shades, but it still sent a brief pang of loss at the almost-familiarity.

This guy wasn't a Reploid, but whatever he was, he was _tenacious_.

"I don't want to fight," X said slowly and carefully, refraining from bringing out his buster just yet in the vague hope that just _once_ someone would actually listen to him on this.

No such luck.

"Isn't that cute," the guy chuckled. "I bet I know someone who'd get along with you." He took aim with his hand and fired the same energy blast that had caught his shoulder earlier. X ducked it, not looking forward to running - self-repair'd barely even had time to get started on his leg, but there was no choice - and fired off a volley of warning shots.

"At least _try_ and hit me, buddy," his opponent complained, striding forward as X backed further up the alley and _really hoped_ there wouldn't be a dead end. "I don't think you quite get this whole 'fighting' thing we're doing here."

X backed off further, still not wanting to resort to violence. Mavericks were one thing. He knew from painful experience that they couldn't be reasoned with.

This wasn't a Maverick.

"Please, we can-"

Whatever it was they could do, X never got a chance to say. Another person dropped into the space X had made between them. Threat assessment was high before but it went crazy at the newcomer, all but blaring _get away_ at him over and over. They looked human, but no human could possibly trigger that much of a response. They weren't even facing towards him and X was rooted to the spot while simultaneously wanting to _run_.

His opponent seemed to have no such issues. He clicked golden fingers in recognition.

"Oh, I know you! You're Dante's bro, right?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. The newcomer shot forward as red-and-gold leapt into the air. The battle was taken to the skies, X hardly able to understand what he was seeing, the movements too quick and too many. His...rescuer (?) seemed to have the upper hand. His opponent had a hard time hitting his target; each time he fired off those energy blasts from one of his hands the space where the white-haired not-human had been was empty and they were already slashing back with a large sword.

X kept his eyes on the aerial spectacle and began backing away as it climbed higher and higher. He was grateful for the save, but he had no desire to stick around with that mess acting as a beacon to every resident in this strange city.

Or, for all he knew, it was a regular sight overhead. Either way, he was pretty sure he didn't want to stay here too long.

\---

"Will you just - _ugh_ \- quit it already!" A hefty kick somehow managed to connect, sending Vergil plummeting to the rooftops below. Tony knew the guy couldn't fly, but he'd still managed a close enough approximation with that near-teleportation speed he had. Shaking out his hands, Tony hovered (hopefully) out of range, but close enough to be heard over the wind as Vergil recollected himself.

"Hate to break up our little playdate, but I think our main objective's kind of skedaddling." He'd noticed the silver-haired demon on the rooftops before, also tracking the strange new robot. His only surprise was how long it took Vergil to intervene. The demon stood up, fixed him with a cold glare, and was gone.

Rude.

\---

Zero ended up on the roof and collapsed slowly against the wall built around the door that lead to the stairwell.

It had been a long time since he'd felt panic like that. There was a special kind of absolute terror that only X being in danger could invoke. He'd stupidly overreacted, but in his defence, he kind of _hadn't been expecting this_. Well, Vergil would probably track them down in five minutes and complain at him. But that was later, and this was now, high up over the city, midday sun beating down. You were generally safe during the day. It was only at night that anyone bored enough went on the prowl to pick fights.

The breeze gently played at his hair. It was quiet up here. Even as Zero slowly relaxed his death-grip on his best friend, it still didn't feel real. Yet there was no question that this was X, even if...he was out of his armour for some reason. Zero frowned. Now the initial panic was over and he could get a good look at X, questions were starting to form.

Such as: X was usually pretty meticulous about taming his atrocious helmet hair on his days off or during downtime when he was out of armour, but here it was out in full force, suggesting he'd had to remove his armour in a hurry. After a few seconds thought, Zero brought his hand down to gently ruffle it. Save him a couple moments later, maybe.

And to further support his theory, X wasn't wearing the usual casual jeans and t-shirt he tended to favour when not on active duty, but the proper skin-tight undersuit designed for easier movement for a Reploid who was armoured up.

Something had happened.

If someone here had tried to hurt X -

"Heya, buddy." Dante temporarily cast a shadow over them, then crouched down. "Sorry about Vergil being a big old idiot. Hell of a reaction you had back there, though."

Zero glanced at him, then back at X, and his grip tightened.

"Hey, whoa, relax, it's me, I ain't gonna try any funny stuff." Dante's theatrical _calm down_ gestures did little to ease the tension. "I'm gonna take a completely wild shot in the dark and say that this guy is your pal X."

There was little point in hiding it. Zero allowed himself a slow nod.

"Gotcha." Dante looked over him. "Nice outfit. Hey, hey, I'm just messin'," He hastily added at the narrowed glare he got for that. Mental note, Zero had absolutely no chill when it came to messing with this X guy. Moon and stars, he thought. "He's OK, though, right?"

Zero took a few moments for a quick scan. "He's not dead." He actually wasn't in too bad a shape, save being unconscious and slightly depleted energy reserves. X had come back from worse. (Not that Zero would forgive whoever had done this any time soon).

"He don't need a doctor or mechanic or anything?" After a moment's pause, Zero shook his head. Dante stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Well, good. Guess I'll leave you to it. I'll tell Vergil to keep off your ass, let you guys have your little heart-to-heart up here whenever X comes round."

He backed off. Whatever the ro - _reploid_ equivalent of a heart was, Dante was pretty sure Zero had one. He knew it was something Vergil was pondering, because he was just that kind of asshole. But the evidence was right in front of him. No soulless machine could have that tender an expression, even if he thought he wasn't being watched.

It was real cute, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is invited to their wedding and it's very touching and moving. Axl is there because I like Axl. Deadpool does something wacky. The end.
> 
> also, please consider:  
> 1\. Zero seems tall because in MMX canon he's a head taller than X and he's the badass cool dude character, but put him next to characters from other franchises and it turns out he's real short in comparison  
> 2\. How frigging tiny is X here oh my god


End file.
